Zeroing In On Expenditures

Over the past several years, the same book has managed to make its way onto my annual reading list. It was particularly popular within my physician circles, lauded as bearing great wisdoms in the management of wealth. And over those years, I always delayed it for a seemingly more exciting or alluring read. After all, what wealth did I even have? As for Peter, he was also aware of this book’s renown, though could not recall if he had actually read it. In February 2026, Peter and I finally started up the audiobook version of Die With Zero by Bill Perkins. Who knew such simple and intuitive ideas could, at the same time, be so eye-opening?

The book opens with a powerful introduction to the theme that life is an accumulation of experiences and different life phases are optimal for certain experiences. Through these experiences, we can find deep fulfillment. He introduces the apt fable of the ant and the grasshopper. It is a story of a busy worker ant who tirelessly works to store food for the impending seasons, whereas the grasshopper spends his days dancing and singing only to be ravaged come wintertime.

The author, however, points out that the ant is likely to store up far more food than it could consume, putting to waste much of its efforts without ever being able to enjoy life as the grasshopper had. People who obsessively save for the long-term can be paradoxically short-sighted because they do not realize how fleeting life can be.

Though obvious to most of us, the ultimate point in his opening chapter is this: why would we starve our current selves now in order to feed our future selves when our future earnings (especially in our 40s and 50s) will objectively be higher? He elaborates that we should not be frugal with certain experiences, as some things have a very specific window for enjoyment. Physical limitations, various life phases, and obligations will make some activities completely unfeasible.

I particularly loved that he references psychological research showing that people who have the greatest levels of happiness and satisfaction later in life are those who have a sense of mastery or control over one’s life. Mindfully spending down wealth before death, rather than hoarding it anxiously, can lead to this sense of control and mastery.

Building wealth is meaningless if we do not spend it within our lifetimes. Millennials are often scrutinized for spending on daily Starbucks purchases as though such savings are the reason why we have fallen so far behind the curve on home ownership. However, the author brings up yet a better argument: we need to make deliberate choices about spending rather than mindlessly spending. It’s easy to fall into the trap of going out for a daily latte—how many other purchases in our lives fall into the mindless category?

These costs compound and do not provide enough of a memory dividend to justify the opportunity loss. I am not going to remember the rote trip to Starbucks en route to work. This is one way Peter and I contextualize our spending habits: we look for ones with the greatest “memory dividend,” a concept the author really emphasizes in this book.

Memories compound over time, similar to financial investments. The sooner we obtain memories and experiences, the more we can enjoy it throughout the course of our lives. Wealth does not offer any inherent value until it is spent—whether that is on buying experiences, intangibles such as freedom and flexibility, or even on material goods. In this lifetime, why wouldn’t we want to reap the most of our experiences? It is entirely sensible that we want maximum enjoyment out of life, and smart spending can optimize that. The book is in no way advocating for reckless spending, but argues strongly for thoughtful planning to maximize money’s true worth in reaping that which is truly valuable: memories.

He reasons that waiting for the “right time” for major life decisions (such as home ownership and having children) means losing years of memory-building and “dividends.” It is a no-brainer that investing money at the age of 20, even with a modest return, will yield much more money by 65 than if one started investing at 50. Why do we not apply that same logic to memories? For me and Peter in particular, we think about the “lost dividends” that our parents could enjoy if we delay big milestones. We already feel late to the game, and we want to ensure that the years our parents have left are also filled with enjoyment. With children in particular, the later we have them, the less time they would have with us as well. Lower memory dividends for all involved.

We are very much on the same page of raising a family and child rearing. It takes priority for us over other material things. As for housing, however, we differ quite a bit in our perspectives. For Peter, it can be hard to grasp the sentimental or symbolic power of home ownership, even if it may not be the best financial decision. For me, the idea of setting roots counteracts the innate impermanence that we face on this earth: we only have so much time to sow and reap such a concept of stability.

I personally love the idea of “if not now, then when?” The book delves into the fear of making financial mistakes, such as buying into a costly vacation home. He reckons that even costly or suboptimal financial decisions can be worthwhile for the memories they create. This also partly plays into my greater desire for a home compared to Peter: that though it may not be financially sound, it serves as an anchor for many more memories. In fact, hardships and mistakes are often good learning experiences to mould preferences as opposed to conferring more regret.

Naturally, smart planning is going to be the cornerstone of dying with as little leftover money as possible, ensuring a life well lived. In our pursuit for wealth, we offer in exchange our life force. We all have to make money. The true danger lies with shifting goal posts, where we continually delay or push back milestones because of a psychological “need” for more money. We may not realize until it’s too late to achieve our dreams, passions, or fulfillment outside of our work. When thinking of our most limited resources of time and life force, it makes complete sense that certain experiences can only occur within specific windows. Neither of us have any interest in scaling Machu Picchu but if we did, we’re quickly aging out of that with our geriatric knees.

With this idea in mind, we want to be thoughtful about when to scale back in work. Both of us operate out of a scarcity mindset which needs to be actively undone. We’ve carved out buckets for our expenditures and track our finances so tightly so that we may have a better projection of the future. We have tried our best in planning the minimum amount of money required to sustain our currently lifestyles and hope to FIRE when we can comfortably generate that amount yearly on investments alone. That is the goal post we are sticking with—the one which allows us to feel like we have “enough.”

One interesting perspective came up while we listened to this segment of the book, though. The ideas presented almost went against the concept of FIRE entirely. Much of the FIRE movement focuses on extreme frugality, savings, and maximizing financial gain to acquire the elusive freedom and flexibility to walk away from one’s employer.

However, for the overwhelming majority of people, this path is an arduous one, littered with sacrifice often in their prime years (20’s, 30’s, and 40’s). This book argues that these are the peak years during which our opportunities may be vastest. Especially in our 30’s, our earnings are high enough coupled with fairly good physical health. I don’t have a good answer for this as I grapple with this problem more than Peter does. Peter can sustain a very high quality of life for much less than I can, making FIRE an easy decision for him. I’m trying to find some balance between the two.

I think if someone were to stumble upon our ramblings that they’d presume we just want to quit working altogether. That’s far from the truth as we both enjoy our work and we find it meaningful. The author reckons that love for one’s job is still not a good-enough reason to work indefinitely. One can continue to work to sustain their passion in that regard, but should definitely consider carving out more intentional time to spend that hard-earned money. It is unlikely that anybody has a singular passion that wholly fulfills them.

Outside of purpose, many people work tirelessly because of fear that in older age, medical bills will become unaffordable. Once again, I love that the author’s rebuttal to this. If one were to fall terribly ill today, how much would one day in the hospital cost? Medical bills can easily rack up into the tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of dollars. That is a lifetime of savings, and for what? A few days in the hospital? For most, even after a lifetime of work, these bills are unaffordable. Think about all the life experiences that could have been enjoyed with that money instead.

There are other ways to manage medical bills, especially in older age. Some examples include divorce to avoid spouse inheritance of medical debt in the case of death and trusts to hold assets so that one may then qualify for Medicaid. End of life care or care for serious ailments are so ridiculously expensive that they will drain your bank account regardless of whether you’ve saved up $5,000, $50,000, or even $500,000. I’d rather have 60 years of happy memories than being filled with regret that my life’s earnings were spent on 7 days in a hospital.

This book was full of so many great ideas, lessons, and actionable steps that we couldn’t fit them all in just one post. The concepts laid out here are just the overarching themes and function as the bedrock for topics that we’ll dive more into next week. We’re always excited to blather about these things—do let us know if you decide to pick up the book or have already read it!